I never thought I would be a mom. Let alone at 19.
With all the challenges I have endured over the past 13 months, I have come to realize that being a mom is the only sure thing I was meant to be.
January 29, 2008 was the scariest, most wonderful day of my life. My wonderful, adorable, perfect son was born at 1:10am after 6 hours of hard labor. He was 7 pounds, 3 ounces and 20 inches of perfection. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.
March 4, 2008 was by far the worst day of my life so far. It was the day I found out my son had received an eventual death sentence. Cystic Fibrosis. When I heard those 2 words, my life changed forever, and I heard nothing the doctor said the rest of the conversation. I felt as if I was the most horrible person ever, like there was something I did during my pregnancy to cause this.
March 20, 2008 was the day I stopped believing in God. We got the confirmed diagnosis, and I thought to myself, "How can 'God' allow this innocent child to have a life full of such hardships, and he hasn't even begun to live? What did he do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve this? Why him?" And this was also the day I began to see life as the most precious thing in the world. The short amount of time I have with my son will be spent loving, living, and giving him the best he could get.
June 2008 was the month that it hit me. My son is very sick. He spent 10 days at Madera Children's Hospital being tortured, poked, prodded, and generally disturbed at any moment during the day. It was horrible. I never want to do it again. I have never come as close to getting arrested as I did in that 10 days. I wanted to hurt those doctors so badly for hurting my baby. But I know it's for his own good. He needs them. We need them.
The rest of 2008 was generally uneventful as far as his sickness.
He learned some awesome things, amazing me everyday. How can such a little person learn so much in a short amount of time? It still amazes me that his father and I created such an amazing little person, and taught him everything he knows. I am so proud of the things he's accomplished and I can't wait until he can understand how much I love him.
Before I was a mom, I would hear mothers talk about that special love, one no one could even imagine, until it happened to them. A Mother's Love. And it hit me the day he was born "So this is the feeling they've been talking about." Love at first sight. It exists. I read in the newspaper about these mothers abandoning, hurting, killing their children and I look at him and think 'How could anyone ever harm something so innocent, sweet, and perfect?' People continue to amaze me daily.
His first birthday came faster than I was ready for, and contrary to my belief, I did not have a nervous breakdown. I was too busy worrying about everyone else to think about how fast the year had gone. It wasn't until a week later it hit me. This time last year, he was laying in his bassinett, just a blob. Completely dependent. Unknowing. Now he's is a walking, semi-talking trouble maker.
He is almost 13 months old, and it is 12:21 in the morning, and as I look over and watch him sleep, listen to him lightly snore, I honestly have never been more in love, and wouldn't change anything I've been through to have him with me.
This is my introduction, there are many more of these posts to come, but I promise they wont be this long :)